Why are computers better than husbands? (Panic, genius, and despair. Part 2) #humor #technology

A smile for Monday.

Barb Taub

Lies, Damn Lies, and Things You Tell Tech Support.

In a recent post, I revealed that my beloved was having performance issues. Although still a gleaming silver fox to all outward appearances, lately there had been…failures. I’d be in the mood, but the powerful beast who once eagerly shared my dreams and passions was now taking longer to get it booted up. My needs went unmet, leaving me frustrated and unfulfilled.

I tried removing all excess distractions, making sure nothing was open that might occupy memory or constrict bandwidth. But performance continued to deteriorate until I didn’t even try to get the old guy turned on, knowing the inevitable failure would be so devastating.

The time had come, as I reported here, to seek professional advice. First we tried a phone consult with Genius-Guy James. I insisted with a straight face that I had rebooted, backed up, scanned…

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My annual creepiest #Easter photo #SundayBlogShare #humor

Barb Taub

Time to be afraid again, Easter Peeps.

At the bottom of this annual Easter reblog is possibly the single creepiest photo on the web. (And that includes the Alien Peeps below andthis one of The Donald that you just HAVE to go and spin 360-degrees.) Happy Easter!

Even Daniel Spiess' alien peeps aren't as creepy as that picture down at the bottom of this post. Image credit: https://www.flickr.com/photos/deegephotos/4492282278/Even Daniel Spiess’alien peepsaren’t as disturbing as that picture down at the bottom of this post.


I committed an Easter crime once. I was persuaded to dress up in a bunny costume for my daughter’s preschool class. The teacher opened the door and in I teetered, six-plus feet (counting the ears) of Easter excitement. For about a nanosecond, there was total silence while I held up my basket of plastic eggs. Then eighteen mouths were screaming for eighteen mothers, thirty-six eyes were filling with tears, and seventy-two tiny arms and legs were churning toward the door. We’re not even going to discuss…

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